


What Water Is

by heyjupiter



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Background Slash, Daddy Issues, Gen, Missing Scene, the draft name of this story was:
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-13
Updated: 2017-07-13
Packaged: 2018-12-01 21:03:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,638
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11494695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heyjupiter/pseuds/heyjupiter
Summary: "You want to be a father figure to a fifteen-year-old boy who dresses like a spider?""He doesn't dresslikea spider, Bruce, that would be creepy.""Oh, sorry,I'mbeing creepy."---Bruce Banner went back to India in hopes of keeping his head down and staying out of trouble, but Tony Stark sought him out for some unqualified advice.





	What Water Is

**Author's Note:**

> Hugest thanks to tarajuku for all her beta reading, cheerleading, and attempts to unpack the moral and legal implications of the Sokovia Accords.
> 
> Contains very vague mentions of past child abuse.

"One more patient, Doctor?" Anisha asked.

Bruce hesitated for a moment, then felt guilty for hesitating, and said, "Yes, of course. Do you have an intake form?" It was hot in the clinic, and he was tired, but tomorrow the clinic was closed, and he'd hate to make someone wait for care.

"I didn't have him fill one out--I wasn't sure if you'd be able to squeeze him in. Should be easy, though--he's American, probably just needs something for travelers' diarrhea."

"I _assure_ you I don't have diarrhea," a familiar voice said. Bruce froze and made a conscious effort to keep his expression neutral.

"Sir, you were supposed to wait in the waiting room," Anisha scolded, irritation bleeding through her crisp accent.

"It's fine," Bruce said, waving her off, and hoping he was right. Presumably if the world was ending, Tony wouldn't have bothered with the waiting room at all. "Go home, I can take it from here."

Anisha shook her head and left, muttering something about Americans under her breath.

"Well, Mr. Stark, if you don't have diarrhea, what brings you to my office?" Bruce asked, trying to keep his tone calm. He stood, but stayed behind his small desk.

Tony raised his eyebrows. "Mr. Stark, is it now?"

"I--Tony--"

Tony laughed. "Sorry, Dr. Banner. Just teasing. Old habits, blah blah blah."

Bruce studied Tony closely. He looked healthy--more than healthy, he looked great. He wore Ray Bans and a Black Sabbath T-shirt, and he had no luggage with him. "Are you alright? Everything--everything okay?" _Any more experimental surgeries on yourself?_ , he meant. _Anything extraterrestrial threatening the world? Any killer robots I should know about?_

"Well, Pepper's been worried sick about you."

"Oh, has she?" 

Tony looked down at the bare exam metal table, then back up at Bruce. "Yeah," he said.

Bruce shrugged. "Well, tell her I'm fine. And...and I'll always be fine. It's kind of my thing. She doesn't need to worry about me."

"Yeah, I know, indestructible Hulk and all that. It's just, well, you know Pepper...I think she has a really particular definition of 'fine' and I'm just not convinced you're meeting it."

"Are _you_ meeting it?"

"That's...that's a fair question, actually. You're so _smart_ , Bruce," Tony said, seeming to marvel for a moment.

"Uh huh. And the answer?"

"Uh...you know, I think I maybe am. Well, I'm close, anyway. Better than I've been for awhile."

"Well, I'm happy for you," Bruce said.

"Really? You're going to let me get away with that?" Tony asked.

Bruce looked down at his desk. "Tony, I've told you before...I'm not this kind of doctor. If you had travelers' diarrhea--"

"--I don't have diarrhea--"

"--then I could help you. If you've got something more complicated…"

"Don't sell yourself short. C'mon, let's go get dinner, we'll talk, and let's just see if you can't help me."

Bruce hesitated, and Tony said, "Isn't that what you want? To help people? Isn't that why you're here?"

"Fine. But I need to shower," Bruce said. He'd always had trouble saying no to Tony, but he was pretty sure this wouldn't be the worst thing Tony had ever talked him into, anyway.

Tony made an ambivalent hand gesture, then took another look at Bruce. "Well, it's maybe not the worst idea. I learned from this poster that you're supposed to wash your hands before eating. Did you know that?" He gestured at the wall.

Bruce looked at the faded poster, which had been up on one of the clinic's cinderblock walls since well before Bruce arrived. Possibly since before Bruce was born. "I'm reminded of it daily."

"Okay, so come back to my hotel with me, you can shower there. And then dinner."

"I have--"

"I guarantee my hotel room has a nicer shower than wherever you live."

"You don't know where I live? How did you find me here, anyway?"

"C'mon, Bruce, you remember who you're talking to? You remember how we _met_? I could have found you the day you left."

"Why didn't you, then?" Bruce _had_ wondered who might come looking for him, especially after the Sokovia Accords. But weeks had gone by and he'd started to relax, as much as he ever did.

"I--I did. But Pepper, and Nat...suggested...that you had pretty definitively asked not to be found. And I knew...well, you'd been through a lot. So I...I saw that you were alive. And I left you alone."

"Until now."

"Until now," Tony agreed. "So. And just for the record, I do know where you live--and where you stashed the Quinjet--but that doesn't mean we should waste time going there."

Bruce came around his desk and washed his hands thoroughly. "After you," he said, and he turned off the lights and the ceiling fan, locked the door, and followed Tony outside to an unsurprisingly fancy SUV. Tony handed a few rupees to Sunil, the kid who often hung around the clinic and sometimes played chess with Bruce.

"Hey, thanks for keeping an eye on it," Tony said. Sunil nodded, pocketed the money, and darted off. He probably wouldn't have tried to charge Tony if he'd realized Tony was Bruce's friend, but since Tony could obviously afford it, Bruce said nothing.

If Bruce wasn't surprised by the fancy SUV, he _was_ surprised that Tony hadn't hired a driver. Most foreigners did, since the rates were cheap and the roads were difficult. 

Tony noticed him noticing and said, "See? It's just me."

That was what Natasha had told him, too, that first time. He didn't blame her for the lie, but he didn't want to talk about Natasha, so he said, "You didn't tell anyone where you were going?"

"Well, I did tell people I was going to India, but it's for some scholarship gala in Bangalore."

"Bengaluru? That's hundreds of kilometers from here."

"So I padded my schedule a little," Tony said easily. "I have all the time in the world. By the way, I have to tell you, now that we're in close quarters, you were right about needing a shower." He turned up the air conditioning.

Bruce ran his fingers through his hair and stared out the window, watching the small village disappear. "Wait, are you--are we going to Bengaluru right now? Is that where you're staying?" He didn't know where he'd _thought_ Tony was staying, but surely he could have found a hotel slightly closer.

Tony made a noncommittal sound. 

"Tony…" Bruce said.

"Your clinic is closed on Sundays. I promise I'll have you back by Monday morning."

"Just because I don't have work doesn't mean I don't have things to do," Bruce muttered.

"Well, lucky you, your plans have been upgraded!" Tony adjusted the radio.

Bruce frowned. "Is this...bird songs?"

"It's a soothing nature sounds CD. I thought you might like it."

"Oh, of course, why didn't I think of that. So soothing."

"I can put on Metallica if you'd rather."

"I'll take the bird sounds, I guess." Bruce had trouble listening to most classical music these days. It reminded him too much of his old lullabies. He mainly listened to news radio on his own, or whatever dance music his neighbors played.

"So, don't you want to know what I've been up to?"

"I don't need to send out drones to find out what you're up to, Tony, I can just turn on the BBC World Service."

"Touche. So...I guess you probably heard."

"I heard a lot of things," Bruce said evenly. He'd heard about the Sokovia Accords, of course, and the resultant chaos. (International Headlines). He'd heard about Tony Stark working with Thaddeus Ross, who was somehow Secretary of State instead of imprisoned for human rights violations. (International Politics). He'd heard about Tony's grief holograms at MIT. (Science Friday). He'd heard about Pepper Potts's sabbatical from Stark Industries (Marketplace News). He wasn't quite sure which thing Tony wanted to talk about, but he hoped the nature sounds were really fucking soothing.

"You heard about Spider-Man?"

Bruce blinked. Tony _did_ always find a way to surprise him. "Yeah, I guess I did. He's on the team now?"

" _No_ ," Tony snapped, "He's not. He's just a kid."

"Oh…"

"But he wants to be."

"Well...isn't...well, wait, who's in charge now?" Bruce asked. "And when you say 'just a kid' what do you mean?" He knew Tony thought Steve Rogers was a "kid" too.

"He's fifteen. Eh...maybe sixteen? Friday, when's his birthday?"

"Peter Parker was born on August 27th, 2001," a disembodied female voice replied. With a jolt, Bruce remembered: Tony didn't have JARVIS anymore. Not like he used to, anyway. He knew more than most people what the AI's loss meant to Tony. Friday continued, "He is currently fifteen years old." 

"Jeez," Bruce said.

Tony said, "Also, by the way, no one else knows that's Spider-Man's secret identity, so keep it to yourself."

"Not a problem."

"I know."

"2001, wow."

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure all of your clothes are older than this kid."

"That's not…" Bruce trailed off. His current wardrobe was all at least second-hand and he wasn't sure he could actually refute Tony. He decided to move on. "Okay, so, yeah, he's too young to be on the team. There's...there's plenty of other people." He'd heard about them.

"I know, I know. And we have a good team going, even after...but...he really _wants_ to be an Avenger, though."

"When I was fifteen I really wanted to be a superhero, too," Bruce said. "Didn't mean I...it didn't mean anything."

"So how old is old enough? Eighteen?"

Bruce shrugged. "That's old enough to join the regular army, I guess."

"Right. So...whoever brought him to try to fight the Winter Soldier in Berlin was...some kind of monster."

"...Tony?" Bruce rubbed his temples.

"Look, I--I'd seen the kid on YouTube, Friday ran some pattern recognition...he was already out there, trying to be a superhero, in this sad little suit he made himself out of, like, yoga pants. So I...maybe...helped him with an upgrade. And, uh...well, I don't know how closely you were following everything around the Sokovia Accords?"

"Pretty closely," Bruce said tersely. There had been articles speculating on what the Accords would mean for the Hulk, and none of the possibilities seemed great for him. The worst part was that he _agreed_ that there should be some oversight for the Avengers, especially for people like Bruce. It was just that he wasn't sure he trusted Thaddeus Ross to be that oversight.

Tony winced. "Yeah, well, so--dammit!" He slammed on the brakes and honked his horn at the cars in front of him.

"Could be awhile," Bruce said. "It's cows."

"Cows?" Tony leaned forward in his seat. "I'll be damned. Cows."

"They're sacred, so--"

"Yeah, I know, I read National Geographic too, I just...how long does this usually take?"

Bruce shrugged and turned up the nature sounds. "Could be awhile. Hard to say."

"I mean, what if I--"

"No."

"You don't even know what I was going to say."

"Did it involve a drone of some kind?"

"...well, I don't see why it wouldn't work."

"It might work, but it's offensive. Besides, I thought you were trying to keep a low profile."

"That's so hard for me," Tony said petulantly.

"I know," Bruce said, suddenly feeling an unbidden swell of affection for Tony. He was arrogant and loud and flashy and all kinds of things that Bruce wasn't...but he'd driven out to the middle of nowhere, enduring relative discomfort, to talk to Bruce. To get his opinion, not to make him turn into the Other Guy. 

"You're being very calm," Tony observed.

"Living here makes you realize you have to let go of all the things you can't control."

"Well, I hate it."

"I'm sorry?"

"Bruce, if there's anything I hate more than things I can't control, it's when _you_ apologize for things _you_ can't control."

"I...hear you."

"What about elevated walkways? For the cows?" 

"I'm just not sure the cows would go for it."

"Has anyone consulted Temple Grandin about this?"

"I certainly haven't."

"Friday, make a note of this."

"Noted," Friday said. "Shall I set a reminder for you to follow up?"

Behind them, a car honked. "The cow situation appears to have resolved," Bruce said drily.

"Indeed it has," Tony said, zooming forward. "Thanks, Friday, let's follow up in two weeks."

"So Spider-Man is fifteen years old," Bruce said.

"Practically sixteen."

"Mmm-hmm."

"The thing is. Bruce, we had thirty-six hours to bring in the Winter Soldier...to bring in Captain America...to just...it was going to be so bad. I thought it was going to be so bad, Bruce, and I just--I thought--I thought--it would be like, a one time thing, and…"

"What did Pepper say?" Bruce blurted out.

"Pepper, uh...wasn't….around...then. It's...it was on me. Just me. Okay?"

"Okay."

"So I went to see him...he lives nearby...ish...I went to see him and he just told me everything I wanted to hear. He got these spider powers, he feels a sense of responsibility to help out...he said that if he could stop something from happening, and he didn't stop it...then it's like it happened _because_ of him."

Bruce focused on his breaths. In, out. In, out. 

Tony continued, "So I thought--just this one-time thing. Just once. If this kid could give our side an extra kick--if he could help prevent an all-out civil war...it would be worth it. And it...and I think it was. Worth it."

"Tony? You knew where I was this whole time?"

"More or less. I know you've moved around a bit."

"And you didn't--"

"No. Listen, Bruce...you said you were done...and I...well, I knew this whole thing was different. For you."

"But if I had been there, you wouldn't have--"

"No. No, Bruce, that's not--that's not something that would have been on the table. That's not what I meant at all. Anyway, that's already been done, I don't need to talk about it. Except--I just wanted you to know--I'm not working with Ross anymore. I never really trusted him but I was just trying to--well--nevermind. I--I wanted to talk about what to do next."

"Okay?"

"So he's got this suit I made, and he's out there catching bike thieves in Queens, and it's honestly, extremely precious."

"Okay."

"But he keeps asking me--well, keeps asking Happy--about when we can work together again, when his next _mission_ is."

"So, Tony, tell him it's in three years."

"Two years," Tony corrected. "He's almost sixteen."

"Two years, then."

"So that's it? Just...no? Not till you're older?"

Bruce sighed at Tony's tone. He remembered what it was like to be Tony Stark's sounding board, sometimes. It wouldn't have mattered if Bruce were asleep. It wouldn't really have mattered if Bruce were a hologram of Tony's devising. He just had to chime in occasionally and let Tony work through this on his own.

"Tony, have you...told SHIELD any of this?"

"SHIELD is still...mmm...not the top of my trustworthiness list."

"Sure, but...just...it might take some of this out of your hands." 

"I know," Tony said. "I know. I just…oof, can't believe I'm about to say this, but I know you won't repeat it...Steve was right. The stuff we do, the stuff the Avengers do...it's on us. I don't know who else we can trust. I'm the one who got him into this, so I feel like it's on me, now." 

"So what exactly did you have in mind?"

"Well, the thing is...the kid's a genius. For real, super smart. Like, not as smart as us, but maybe by the time he finishes high school, he will be."

"So all the more reason he should finish school?" Bruce suggested weakly.

"The other thing is, he lives with his aunt."

"Okay?"

"I mean, just his aunt. His parents, his uncle...not in the picture."

"What's the aunt like?"

" _Super_ hot. Like, she looks great for her age. For any age."

"I didn't mean physically."

"I know, I just have to speak my truth. Anyway, no, she seems great, very supportive."

"That sounds great. There are worse fates than being raised by a single mother."

"Aunt."

"A single aunt," Bruce amended. "I mean, there's no--there's not a boyfriend around or anything? Nobody, uh, violent?"

"No, no, nothing like that. It's...seems like a very pleasant home. She's maybe not the most observant, though--doesn't know her nephew is Spider-Man."

"Well, if he's going to stop being Spider-Man, that seems fine."

"He's not, though, Bruce, he's just not. It's in his blood. He wants to help people. So maybe I can help him help people?"

"Maybe you could encourage him to help people...through science, and not through punching people?"

"He doesn't do much punching actually. Mostly just uses this spider web fluid he made himself, it's actually incredible stuff. You should see it sometime."

Bruce heard the unmistakable enthusiasm in Tony's voice, and he made a noncommittal sound.

"Right, sorry, I know. So anyway, I don't know...if I keep helping him, I'm definitely encouraging him...but if I don't keep helping him I think he's just going to keep doing spider-stuff anyway, and maybe he needs my help? Like, you know, some kind of...father figure...type...deal?"

"You want to be a father figure to a fifteen-year-old boy who dresses like a spider?"

"He doesn't dress _like_ a spider, Bruce, that would be creepy."

"Oh, sorry, _I'm_ being creepy."

"It's not...I don't think I'm being creepy. He's a really good kid. I want to do right by him. I don't want to brag, but he kind of idolizes me."

"Is that what you're here for? To ask me for...advice? About how to be a surrogate father to Spider-Man?"

"Well, among other things, but yes, I did think you might have some insight."

"Why in the world would you think _that_?" Bruce asked with a harsh laugh.

"'Cause you had such a shitty dad and you still turned out great."

"If you think I turned out great, you should absolutely be setting a higher bar for that kid."

"You did. You always do the right thing, even when it makes your life suck. And I know you're that way in spite of your dad."

"Okay, I guess," Bruce said, his cheeks flushing. He stared out the window. "I...feel like you'd get better advice from Steve, here."

"I don't think so, even if Steve were...around. Steve's good just...because he is. Rhodey's good because he was raised that way. They're both...you know that joke, about the fish who don't know what water is?"

"Sure," Bruce agreed. It made him think of David Foster Wallace, whose work he could not imagine Tony having the patience to read. But then, Tony so often found a way to surprise him.

Tony continued, as if Bruce had not answered, "The old fish swims by two younger fish and says, 'Morning, boys, how's the water?' And one of the younger fish turns to the other one and says, 'What the fuck is water?'"

Bruce laughed, even though he'd already heard the joke and it wasn't even especially funny. "So, sorry, what does that have to do with this?"

In a tone indicating that he thought his train of thought was obvious, Tony said, "So...those guys don't know what water is. They're just in it. You...you know what water is." He punctuated this with a vague hand gesture.

"I guess?"

"So now imagine you're a little fish again. What would you want?"

"I…" Bruce generally tried very hard to avoid thinking about his childhood. "I, um, I don't know."

"Well, we've still got a long drive, you can think about it. Ooh, here, you can watch some footage, give you some ideas."

"Footage?"

"From the kid's suit." Tony said. He fished a device out of his pocket and handed it to Bruce.

"Tony, keep your eyes on the road," Bruce said.

"Calm down, Bruce. Friday, show him."

"Could you be more specific?" Friday asked.

"Show him that mugger from last weekend."

The device came to life with POV footage that made Bruce a little carsick to watch, and it made him nervous that Tony kept craning his neck over to watch alongside him. But the thing that really struck him was the kid's nervous chatter to himself, clearly unaware that he was being recorded. 

"He doesn't know you're recording him, does he?" Bruce asked.

"Of course not."

"Well...maybe let him know? That you're watching? That he's not alone?"

"But I don't want him to think he can count on me to get him out of trouble."

"Can't he, though?"

"I--I can't always be watching him, though. What if he gets sloppy, thinks I'll be around to help him, and--and I'm not?"

"Tony, I've seen your tech. Can't you always be around to help? You know, if not _you_..."

"A suit!"

"Yeah, or something?" 

"A suit," Tony repeated. "You're a genius. I can't believe I didn't think of it."

"You did? Though? Think of it."

"But I wouldn't have gotten there without you. Well, maybe I would have, but not so soon. Okay, so you think I should back him up?"

"No? I don't know? Maybe you could just...go to his school events?"

"No, that sounds boring," Tony said decisively. "Besides, I show up to stuff like that and it just becomes the Tony Stark show. Which is...admittedly less boring to me, but...seems bad. You know, for his self-esteem."

"I suppose," Bruce said. 

"The thing about the suit, though, is I'd still have to be awake to man it. Or...there is the AI I put into his spider-suit, but I don't want him to rely on it. He's not ready for it yet."

"Tony, have you just...told him any of this?"

"What?"

"Just tell him what you told me. He's doing a good job, and you're proud, but you don't want him to get hurt."

"No way, you can't just tell a kid something like that, it'll go to his head."

"...what did your dad tell you when _you_ were fifteen?"

"That I was a lazy good-for-nothing fuckup who would ruin the Stark name," Tony said matter-of-factly. "But I never listened to him."

"Okay, well....don't say that to him?"

"I think it did make me better, just out of spite," Tony mused. 

"Tony, you're...a special case."

"So true. You're right, I did come here for ideas on how to be a _good_ father. But, since we're sharing, what did your dad tell you when you were fifteen?"

"Nothing worth repeating."

"Yeah, I figured. But...what would you have _wanted_ him to say?"

There was a long silence, filled only by recorded nature sounds. "I don't know. I guess just...it's not about one single, magic bullet phrase he could have said. He would have had to be an entirely different person."

"Be a different person," Tony repeated. "Friday, remember that."

"I remember everything," Friday said.

"I didn't mean _you_ should be a different person, Tony. But--I mean, if he had just turned up and told me he--he loved me, or he was proud of me, or--or anything...nice, just once--I would just have been...suspicious."

"Well, shit," Tony said. Bruce felt Tony's questioning eyes on him and Bruce gave a small shrug. 

"It's fine. It was a long time ago," Bruce said, and he found that he more or less meant it. He'd managed to screw his own life up more spectacularly than his father ever could have. 

"It's just that I'm not sure I can be that kind of person," Tony said.

"Sure you can."

"Can I? I...I'm not good at saying nice things."

"Mmm," Bruce said, biting back the urge to tease Tony about not being good at _something_. "Maybe not in the conventional way. But your heart's in the right place."

"Bruce, if I wanted someone to tell me it was important to have my heart in the right place, I would have stayed in New York and gone to a Hallmark store."

"I didn't ask you to come here, you know. It's not like I put up an ad on Craigslist that said, 'Terrible pseudo-parenting advice, 5 cents.'"

"I mean, you might as well have, right? Working at that village free clinic, mere hundreds of kilometers from a major metropolitan area. You were just asking to be asked."

"This is really why you're here?" Bruce asked again.

"Well, the Howard and Maria Stark Foundation endowed a sizeable scholarship for the Indian Institute of Science of Bangalore, so naturally I had to make an appearance at the gala."

"Naturally."

"Bruce, I already told you. I wanted your advice. It's...important to me. I screwed up a lot of things. I don't want to screw this up. And I trust you. That's it."

"See?" Bruce said. "I knew you could do it. Just tell your Spider-Kid something like that. Just...be honest. Build his trust."

"Yeah," Tony said, his voice brightening. "Something like that. Just to keep him on the right track. I can do that."

Bruce blinked out the window. It was dark out, and city lights were approaching. Tony had made terrifyingly good time driving, once the cows had cleared the path. "Well, happy to help. You might as well just turn around now."

"No way, you definitely need a shower before another car trip. Besides, we're almost there."

"Mmm. Right. I did warn you before we left." Bruce would be lying if he said he wasn't a little excited for a shower with some decent water pressure.

"I figured seeing whatever you called a shower would depress me, and I'm honestly already pretty depressed."

"I'm sorry seeing the way millions of people live their lives depresses you."

"No, I didn't mean--just in general. Just in general. I was aiming for more of like, lighthearted joking about how I feel terrible all the time."

"Hilarious."

"I think it's what the kids call, hashtag relatable content."

"Oh? Did you learn that from Spider-Man?"

Tony shook his head, but Bruce could see the hint of a smile.Then Tony pulled into the valet parking of what Bruce could only describe as a palace. Tony handed over the keys to the valet and reached into his pocket for a pair of sunglasses, which he handed to Bruce.

"It's nighttime."

"They're privacy glasses, they'll keep your face from being picked up by any cameras. Of which they're shouldn't be any, since we're going in the discreet VIP entrance, but I know how you worry."

Bruce thought his fears were pretty reasonable, but he took the glasses and followed Tony. He felt more underdressed than ever. He noticed that the hotel was literally called the Leela Palace.

"Don't worry," Tony said, calmly leading Bruce into an elevator. "The richer you are, the less nice you have to dress. You're just taking it to the next level."

They emerged into a suite that was definitely the fanciest place Bruce had ever been. (Stark Tower was now the second fanciest.) It was clearly Tony's room--already T-shirts and notes were scattered about. Tony handed Bruce a plush robe and pushed him into a bathroom.

"Everything you need should be in there. I'll see about food. You in the mood for anything in particular?"

"I…"

"Of course not," Tony said, laughing and rolling his eyes. "Enjoy your shower."

Bruce did enjoy it, in fact. He enjoyed it so much that he forgot about the droughts and climate change and the Sokovia Accords and everything. He emerged much later, slightly pruny, smelling like rosemary, and wondering what fibers the robe was made out of. It felt impossibly soft.

Tony was lounging on the king size bed, a silver tray in front of him. He grinned. "I knew you'd like a good shower. Anyway, there's an Italian restaurant downstairs, so I ordered pizza...I'm sure it's not as good as New York pizza but better than nothing, right?"

"Right," Bruce managed to agree. He hesitated for a moment before sitting down on the edge of the bed. 

"C'mon, eat. It looks like you haven't been doing that."

"See, that? That's a very dad thing to say."

"Hmm," Tony said. He took a bite of pizza and said, "Definitely not as good as New York pizza."

"It's good," Bruce said.

"On this matter, I do not respect your opinion."

Bruce realized that he was hungry. Tony _was_ right--the heat tended to suppress his appetite, so he'd been skipping lunches. But Tony's room was extremely air conditioned. For a few moments, they ate pizza in silence. Then Tony asked, "Why India, anyway?" 

"Hmm?"

"You were here before."

"Not _here_ , exactly. It's a big country."

"Still. It's not the easiest place for you to blend in, if that's what you're after."

"I can do a lot of good here."

"You can do a lot of good in New York."

"I can do a lot of good here, and people leave me alone, and it's very...laid back... It's warm."

"Laid back and warm is how you describe the beach, not some village that barely has electricity."

"I helped them build solar panels," Bruce said automatically. He took another bite of pizza before adding, "I don't know...nobody cares who I am. It's beautiful here."

"I saw an Avengers mural in Bangalore. People know about the Avengers. There's nowhere on Earth that people don't know about the Avengers."

"You know what I mean. Here, nobody knows _me_." Most people in the US didn't know Bruce either, not by face, anyway. Not the way they knew Tony and Steve and Thor. But enough people knew...enough...for Bruce to be uncomfortable.

"Why couldn't you just build a secret farm like Barton?" 

"Dammit, Tony, I'm a doctor, not a farmer." 

"You're such a nerd, is what you are." 

"Well, what do you want me to say? Why are we talking about this, anyway?"

"If I can figure out why you like it here, maybe I can figure out a place for you to live that's a little...closer to home."

"I don't know, Tony, I'm just...here."

"Of course!" Tony snapped his fingers excitedly. "I forgot, you don't think you deserve nice things."

"No, that's not it...I'm not living here as some kind of _punishment_ , I'm just…" Bruce trailed off. "I can live with this."

"But didn't you like it better in New York?"

"I don't know."

"Don't lie to me, Banner."

"I mean, yes, of course--I--living with you and Pepper, it was great, and I--you were so great to me, and I--"

"And you _left_ ," Tony said, the hurt in his voice raw and unmistakeable.

Bruce took a moment to process that. "You know I couldn't stay. Not after...everything."

"You couldn't, or you wouldn't?" Tony still sounded hurt, as if Bruce were personally attacking him.

"Tony, you don't think I left because...because of you?"

"I've studied the patterns and I have to say it's kind of a constant in my life."

"No, Tony, I--we've already talked about this--I left because--because I was tired of always waiting for the other shoe to drop." Bruce shivered. "Can you turn the air conditioning down? It's freezing in here."

"You're the one who didn't have the sense to blow dry his hair," Tony said. He put the food tray on the bedside table, extended his arms, and said, "C'mere." Bruce hesitated and Tony said, "C'mon. You're cold. I'll warm you up. I'm an impeccable host, everyone says so."

"I'll get your shirt wet."

"Then I'll take it off."

"Fine," Bruce said. He scooted across the bed and pressed his back to Tony's chest. He wanted to cry at how good it felt when Tony wrapped his arms around him. He had a few friends here, but nobody who he could hug, even if it were culturally appropriate. He'd forgotten how it could be. "See, this is...this is what I mean." Behind him, Tony flinched, and Bruce said, "I mean...this is...nice...but I can't…"

"You could, though," Tony murmured, right in Bruce's ear.

Before anything else could happen, Bruce steeled himself to ask the question he'd been dreading. He couldn't let Tony distract him. "Tony...what happened to the Winter Soldier?"

Tony twisted a finger through Bruce's hair. "Your hair gets so curly when it's longer."

"Tony."

"I thought you were following the news."

"The news said he was killed." Tony stroked Bruce's hair, and Bruce said, "But I don't believe it. What happened?"

Tony's hand stopped moving. "You know, when most people get me in bed, this isn't what they want to talk about."

"I think we've established that I'm not most people."

"He's in Wakanda."

"What's he _doing_ in Wakanda?" That story didn't make sense to Bruce either, not with what he'd heard about T'Challa. There were so many pieces of the story that just didn't add up.

"He's...maybe....in a state of suspended animation. By his own request!"

"Is that possible? What kind of tech are they using?" Bruce asked, wondering how the Other Guy might respond to that. He suspected it would end poorly for everyone. This was why Bruce had wanted to avoid the Accords--not because he didn't think he should be held responsible for his actions, but because he didn't think there was any way for anyone besides Bruce to contain the Other Guy that wouldn't end in disaster.

"Oh, no, don't you go getting any ideas. He's just there until Steve can figure out how to unbrainwash him. It's a whole different thing."

"Is it?" Bruce murmured. "He and I both kill people when we lose control of ourselves."

"Are we having this conversation again? Bruce, you saved the world from aliens. You've saved so many lives."

"What happened in Johannesburg--"

"--Was Wanda's fault, not yours. And she did it because she was mad at me, so really it's my fault."

"But if the Winter Soldier was brainwashed, the things he did weren't his fault, but he still has to be held accountable for them. That's the whole point of the Sokovia Accords."

"No, it's--it's not the _whole_ point," Tony stuttered. "Anyway, it's--those were a mistake. In retrospect. And we're kind of...not following them anymore. It's...complicated."

"Mmm," Bruce said. "Maybe that's what I like about living here. Things are pretty simple for me."

"Complexity is interesting."

Bruce was tired of arguing with Tony. Bruce was _tired_. He angled for a change of subject. "Not that this isn't...nice, Tony, but can't you turn the air conditioning down a little?"

"I'd have to get up to do that, I haven't connected Friday to this building," Tony said petulantly. "But it _is_ a little nippy, I admit. Here." He shifted slightly and tugged the comforter around the two of them.

"Tony...what's happening with you and Pepper?" Bruce forced himself to ask. He'd heard she'd left the company, and he'd assumed that meant she'd left Tony--the two things were so entwined. But earlier, Tony had said Pepper had asked after him. 

Things had gotten so intense between Bruce and Tony and Pepper, before Bruce had left. He'd loved them both, but...the whole situation had been so complicated that it made loving Natasha feel simple in comparison.

"Things are pretty good, actually. She...well, she...needed a break, for awhile, but when she heard what happened to Rhodey, she came back to visit, and...we came to a pretty good understanding. She misses you, though."

"Oh! How's Rhodey doing?" Bruce felt terrible for not asking sooner. He'd heard a little about War Machine's injury in the news, but his recovery process wasn't as widely covered.

"Better. If you'd come back, I think you could really help, we're making really important progress in sensory-enhanced robotic prosthetics, getting him back on his feet...literally…"

"That's not really my area of expertise."

"Give me a couple days, I could get you up to speed."

"Why don't you ask Spider-Man for help? Give him an internship or something."

Tony laughed softly. "Great idea." 

Bruce yawned and stretched. Tony said, "Oh, no, you're not going to sleep, are you? It's not that late."

"I've been up since 5am."

"I've been up since...I have no idea, I've lost all track of time zones, but it doesn't _feel_ late."

"Tell me more about your robotic prosthetics."

Tony took the bait, and Bruce drifted off to sleep listening to Tony animatedly discuss proprioception and balance.

When Bruce woke up later, he realized that Tony was still tangled around him, but Tony was awake and watching some video footage projected in the air above the bed. Bruce let his eyes focus for a minute before realizing it was more from Spider-Man.

"Morning, sunshine," Tony said, pulling out earbuds and gesturing away the video.

Bruce rolled over and recognized the gleam in Tony's eyes. "Tony, did you sleep at all?"

"I might have drifted off a bit somewhere in there?"

"What time is it?"

"Friday?"

"It is 5:14am, India Standard Time," the AI answered.

Bruce yawned and stretched. 

"You don't have work today. You can go back to sleep," Tony said. "Or! Don't! Watch this!" He pulled the video back up.

Bruce sat up and watched the video. "It kind of feels like the police could do that."

Tony scoffed. "Not with that kind of style."

"I just mean--if he's not doing high school stuff, shouldn't he wait and use his...abilities...for things that actually need them? I mean, Iron Man doesn't get cats out of trees."

"Excuse you, Iron Man has totally gotten a cat out of a tree. It was very popular on YouTube."

"You know what I mean, though."

"Yeah, but that other stuff's too dangerous."

"Well…"

"You're right, you're right, I should just talk to him. Just...just be honest."

"But supportive," Bruce said.

"Right. I can do that. I can do that. Will you do it for me?"

"Tony…"

"No, right, it should be me." Tony sighed. "I'm getting coffee. You want some? Or tea? You like tea."

"Tea," Bruce agreed. "Thanks." 

Tony made a room service order, and Bruce got up to get dressed.

"Hang on, you can't put those clothes back on," Tony said. "Those clothes are disgusting."

"I didn't exactly pack a bag yesterday. I wasn't counting on being kidnapped."

" _Kidnapped_ , listen to you. Take whatever you want out of my suitcase, if you _must_ put clothes on."

"My old clothes are fine."

"I don't want to smell them on the way back."

"I can just take the train."

Tony scoffed, and Bruce realized it was another time when it was easier to just let Tony have his way. He opened Tony's suitcase and was surprised to find khakis and a purple linen button-down shirt that didn't look like Tony's usual style.

"Pepper helped me pack," Tony said smugly. 

"Tell her thanks," Bruce said, which didn't feel adequate. A knock at the door announced room service, so Bruce ducked into the bathroom to change while Tony accepted the tray. When he came back out, Tony was lounging on the bed with coffee.

"You know, this room has a whole other room to it, with a table and everything," Bruce said.

Tony shrugged. "You're welcome to it if you want. Here's your tea. Did you know, you're not supposed to say 'chai tea' because 'chai' just means 'tea', so it's like, 'tea tea'?"

"Believe it or not, I did know that," Bruce said. He took the chai and sat back down on the bed. "What time is your gala today?"

Tony made an ambivalent hand gesture. "Later."

"Well, if you're going to take me back, and drive back here, we should probably leave before long so you have time."

"Listen, I'm like Kesha--the party don't start til I walk in. Anyway, I thought...you might want to go."

"You thought...I might want to go...to a gala," Bruce repeated.

"Well, okay, I didn't think you would _want_ to go, but I thought maybe I could _convince_ you."

"Tony, you know I can't."

"I know you _won't_ ," Tony said. "You're right, though, we should leave." He sipped his coffee. "You want some toast? They brought, like a _lot_ of toast. I guess they figured for how much coffee I asked for, they should provide a proportional amount of toast...I didn't even order any toast. This is infinitely more toast than I requested."

"I'll have a piece of toast," Bruce said. There _was_ a lot of it.

They spent another few hours lying around, picking at toast and sipping their drinks while Tony caught Bruce up on all the idle Avengers gossip he'd missed out on. Bruce figured out how to turn down the air conditioning so the room didn't feel like a refrigerator anymore. Tony complained, and Bruce said, "The colder it is in here, the hotter it feels when you go back outside."

"Always waiting for the other shoe to drop, huh?" Tony asked. 

"I guess so."

Tony sighed. "Let me just show you one more thing before we go." He pulled up a schema on his phone and walked Bruce through a design he was making for a new shield for Steve.

"It's nice," Bruce said. "I thought Steve was…"

"He'll be back," Tony said confidently. "I want to have it ready when he is. Friday, what time is it?"

"It's 10:33am," the AI replied.

Tony ran a hand through his hair. "Damn. I thought we had more time. Maybe I could…"

"Tony, we should leave," Bruce said quietly.

"I know," Tony said. Neither of them stood.

"I wish…" Bruce started to say. He trailed off, unsure even of how much he even dared wish for.

"Yeah," Tony said. 

Bruce finally stood and used the room's exquisite bathroom one more time, then lingered awkwardly by the door. 

"God, fine," Tony said. 

"You should bring a bottle of water. So you don't get travelers' diarrhea," Bruce said.

"I have a UV water purifier, thank you," Tony said with a wounded glare. But he took a bottle from the minibar before leading Bruce back out to the special VIP valet exit.

"Tony, do you want me to drive? You could...take a nap," Bruce offered.

"No way, when was the last time you drove a car?"

"Driving while sleep impaired is dangerous."

"You think _this_ is sleep impaired?" Tony said with a laugh. "I'm fine."

"Alright. Just thought I'd offer, since you'll have to drive back."

"I like driving. As long as there aren't any goddamn cows."

"God _blessed_ cows."

On the way back, Tony remarked, "There's a lot more roadkill along this road than you'd expect."

"People stop for cows, but not anything else."

"Apparently."

"You know, I heard wind turbines kill upwards of 140,000 birds a year."

"You're so full of cheerful fun facts, Bruce. You should write a children's book."

"Just, wind power is so much better for the environment...except for those birds. Even doing something good can have side effects you don't intend. It's just something I was thinking about."

"The arc reactor doesn't kill any birds," Tony said smugly. "I've had a few mid-air collisions in the suit, though."

Bruce laughed at the mental image. 

"It's not funny," Tony protested. "They really ding up my paint job."

Despite Tony's distracted driving, they made it back to Bruce's adopted village uneventfully. "You, uh, can just drop me off at the clinic. I left my bike there."

"Okay."

"You're not gonna make fun of my bike?"

"You want me to? Uh...it's a very _green_ method of transportation."

Bruce laughed as Tony pulled to a stop in front of the clinic. "There it is. Thanks for that."

"Well, it was the least I could do. One Hallmark card for another."

"Right. Well...thanks." Bruce unbuckled his seatbelt.

"Wait."

Bruce waited, and Tony reached over, cupped his face, and kissed him gently. "I missed you, Bruce. We miss you."

"I miss you too. But…"

"Don't say it."

Bruce squeezed Tony's hand and said, "Take care of Spider-Man."

"Take care of _yourself_."

Bruce waved the still-full water bottle at Tony and said, "That goes for you, too."

Then he opened the door and stepped out of the car. Before he shut the door, he leaned in and whispered, "If you do get travelers' diarrhea, come back and I'll patch you right up." He closed the door before Tony could reply, but he heard laughter.

Bruce smiled to himself as he went to get his bike out of the clinic's small shed. When he reached in his pockets for his keys, he discovered a new flip phone. He opened it up and found that it had two contacts in it: T and P. A message popped up from T: _Please keep this. Just in case._

 _Don't text and drive,_ Bruce replied. He turned off the phone, but put it back in his pocket. It was nice to know he wasn't completely alone. Then he rode his bike home and turned on the BBC World Service, relieved to hear that the world wasn't ending today.

**Author's Note:**

> The title is inspired by _This is Water_ by David Foster Wallace.
> 
> PS obviously this has now been jossed [do people still say "jossed"?] by Thor: Ragnarok, but let's just consider this an alternate timeline.


End file.
